Anges
by sharonarnotdon
Summary: Christine has gone back to Erik and they have run away together to her fathers old inherited mansion. But how easy WILL it be for them? FINISHED!
1. The Escape

_ Ange`'s_

  


Christine Daae` ran through the freezing streets of Paris, her clothes shredded and blood dripping from several cuts on her. The creme colored gown was stained with several things and could pass as a chemise in its ruined state. A tear slowly slipped from one of her bright blue eyes and she quickly wiped it away.

'_What have I done?'_ She thought as she ran into the Paris Opera. _'How could I betray him, the one who gave me my voice? The one I truly_ _love?'_ She flung open her mirror and ran down the path, blinded but knowing the way. She soon reached the lake and seeing that the boat wasn't there she jumped into the icy water.

An unladylike word slipped from her mouth as she hit it, her body instantly responding to the cold, goose bumps rising all over her. She swam frantically across, biting back more words as she neared the shore. She ran from the now shallow waters to his home and she nearly screamed at the angry mob, tearing through his things. She knew they would see her as a traitor if she did, so she just carefully stepped through a hole made in the portcullis by them.

Meg saw her and cried out, running to hug her. "Christine we were so worried are you ok?"

Christine was shaking in pure horror. "Meg, have they got him?"

Meg shook her head. "He escaped."

"Oh merci dieu!" She gasped. She then quickly looked at Meg, expecting a shocked look, she found a smug one instead.

"Oh don't look so shocked Christine! The moment you spoke of this angel of music I knew it was him. You heard him all over, please! You fell in love with him, didn't you?"

Christine bit her lip, her eyes getting acquainted with the floor. Meg shook her head. "And you've come back to him now? Even after all he's done."

"Oh but Meg he's done it all for me and..."

"And it's terribly romantic!" Meg grinned. "Too bad there aren't more men like him."

"Meg?..."

"C'mon Christine, we have to find him." Meg said, taking her best friends hand and then leading her silently away from the reckless mob.

They wandered for a bit, and when they were sure the mob couldn't hear, Christine began to call his name. "Erik, Erik where are you?" She softly asked.

"Christine..." his voice trailed from above. Both women's heads shot up to see him, in a small cavern carved into the stone.

"Christine is that?..."

Christine nodded. "Yes Meg. Now be careful, don't offend or frighten him any more than he is."

"I won't." Meg said gingerly, and the two made their way up. Erik helped them climb into the small space. 

"Christine you... you came back?"

"Yes Erik, I came back." She reached up, touching his unmasked face. "And I'm never leaving you again."

Erik immediately looked to Meg, fear apparent on his face. "You're Madame Giry's daughter." he pointed out bluntly. 

Meg nodded and slyly said. "You're the man my best friend loves." He seemed to calm.

Christine looked to her. "Meg?..."

"Yes, I'll go keep watch." She said, carefully slipping from the crevice. 

Christine's gaze fell upon Erik's. His mis-matched eyes were watching her, deeply intoxicated by her appearance, even with her tattered clothes and cut up body, she was exquisitely beautiful to him. She blushed under his eyes but did not look away. "Erik, I'm sorry I ran off, can you ever forgive me?"

He reached up, cupping her cheek and he gazed into her eyes, searching for sincerity. He found not only that, but love and hope as well, he was sure of it. "There is nothing to forgive, Christine. I forgave you when it happened. And now you are with me and all is well." He watched a tear of joy slip down her cheek.

"Oh Erik, I love you so!" She cried, pulling him to her and pressing her mouth full against his. He sat paralyzed for a moment but then his arms enveloped her and he kissed back with a bruising force. She groaned at his restraint when he brought himself away and shook his head. "No further, _mon ange`_, it is too risky."

Her eyes saddened and he chuckled. "I promise you, this will happen, but if we let it happen now we would be given away."

She understood now. "You promise?" She whispered.

"Yes, Christine, I promise." He stroked her cheek. "What happened to you?"

She grinned. "It was no easy task getting out of Raoul's coach." Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

He laughed heartily, kissing her gently when Meg's voice brought them back to reality.

"Christine, Monsieur Erik, now would be ideal to come down and start to run."

With a sigh Erik gathered up Christine in his arms and swooped down from the crevice almost bird like. He then set her down and Christine turned to her friend. "Please stall them as best as you can, Meg."

Meg smiled. "Oh that'll be easy! Keep in touch."

Christine nodded. "I will."

With that the two sped off in the direction of the Rue Scribe. Erik looked at her as they ran. "Have you any ideas as to where we will go?"

She thought blankly. "No, you?"

He grinned. "Yes, but I will not tell you until we get there."

He opened the door for her and smiled as he heard Meg's cover. "Yes, I saw him! He just ran up from here into the Opera."

Christine waved down a hansom and then Erik ordered for it to go somewhere, she could not hear where. She sighed when he sat down next to her and leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, searching for sleep.

He began to sing, soft and nearly patronizingly. The melody was that of The point of No Return, but the lyrics were much different.

"_Go to sleep love, for the morning will bring a long day, for the morning will begin our new life. Always together, forever. We will go home, and wait for the news to be dead, for the murder to no longer flame the act of pure anger to be washed away, so c lose your eyes and sleep, peaceful dreams of love, give in to slumber, slumber._"

Christine sighed and sleep came. Her body went limp against him and he grinned. He then took her hand, kissed it and held it in his own for the rest of the journey.

* * *

  


Christine awoke in the hansom just hours later, feeling somewhat refreshed. She turned and saw that Erik was staring out the window, eyes wide open, the sun had obviously just finished rising and the driver must be dreadfully tired.

"Erik," She started he looked at her quickly.

"Christine why are you awake? You should be resting!"

She snorted and glared at him. "_I_ have rested, _you_ have yet to do so." She reached out, tracing the heavy sacs beneath his eyes.

He sighed. "I've gone without rest before..."

"And if we're to be together it will _never happen again!"_ She smiled affectionately. 

He smiled, cupping her cheek. "I will when we get there, I promise, but I must assist the poor driver and provide him with money when we _do _reach there."

"I could pay." She said simply.

"No no no no NO." He chuckled. "You will _never_ have to pay for a cab ride again, darling. You are under my wing, now."

She sighed. "Suit yourself." She sat back. "I'm staying up, I'm not too tired now."

He sighed and nodded, obviously through with talking. T was a while before the tired driver asked, "Is this it, Monsieur?" 

Erik looked. "Oui, Monsieur, thank you for your troubles." He leaned forward and dropped a heavy purse into the drivers hands.

"It was no problem at all, monsieur." Christine was surprised by the enormous respect.

"My lady," Erik said cheerily holding out his hand for her. She grinned, taking it and he helped her from the cab. 

Christine looked around at her surroundings. They were in the country. A small cottage sat in the middle of a great amount of land. It included a stable and tool shed, not to mention a chicken coop.

"Just as I left it," Erik whispered. "This, was my childhood home." 

She cocked her head. "But how can we...?"

"My mother left it to me when she died, she wasn't totally heartless I suppose, she just feared my face, and the danger that came with it."

She nodded in understanding. "I suppose it will do."

* * *

  
  


That is the real end to chapter one, tell me if it should be abandoned.


	2. Flight

_Ange`s Chapter 2_

_ Flight_

  


Christine and Erik slowly made their way to the house, Erik making his way to the stable and Christine going inside immediately. She looked around, two bedrooms. Both with beds and dressers of clothes. Baffled she went into the kitchen to find food and utensils and china.

She did not hear the figure coming up behind her. She gasped when hands wrapped around her, one covering her mouth preventing her from screaming and the other close to her throat, a dagger was in the hand, slowly pressing in to the delicate flesh.

"Who are you?"

She did not struggle and he removed his hand. "My name is Christine Daae`, my fiancé owns this property."

He laughed coldly. "No, _I_ own this property. Your fiancé the one who _abandoned_ it?"

"He may not be living here but..."

"Well the house was empty, I'm paying to take care of it, so I own it. Now kindly leave or I'll kill you and you'll never see your wedding day."

"Perhaps you should discuss that with him..."

His grip tightened. "Listen mamselle, I ain't got time for you or your boy toy. Now get the hell outta my house or..." He paused and removed the knife. "No... I have a better use for you." He said, continuing to escort her from behind. She found herself at the front door which his hand locked and then she was tossed into a bedroom, that door also locked. He turned and faced her.

He was younger than Erik, maybe the same age as Raoul. He also wasn't bad in the looks department. She recognized his accent as an American one, from the southern area by his use of the word 'ain't'. He chuckled as she looked him over and then made his way to her, coming behind and then kissing her shoulder. She cringed at the touch but said nothing in fear. He began to whisper perverse things in French, his of which, was poor. She felt him remove her dress from her shoulders and the farther down, kissing bare skin. His attention now on her breasts she reached over on the night stand, grabbing a vase then shattering it on his head. 

She pulled her clothes on best as she could and ran for the door, unlocking it then bursting into the living area, unlocking the front door and running to the stables. Erik was bringing out a second horse.

"Cherie, what is it?" He asked, seeing the tears on her face. "He.. Living here... Says he owns.. Tried to... kissing... no clothes." She gasped out, her face buried in his chest.

In fury Erik gently pushed her back. "He tried to take you against your will?"

She nodded still sobbing.

"Mademoiselle, I truly thought you were liking it!" The sound of a gun being loaded caught the couple's ears and they turned to see him aiming a shotgun, he reached to pull the trigger and Erik grabbed her throwing her on a horse and getting on the other they took off, shots echoed behind them.

Christine thinking they were safe suddenly gasped in pain, her foothold on the horse loosening and she fell to the ground. She did her best to keep her head from hitting.

"CHRISTINE!" Erik cried stopping his mare and running back to her. She had been shot in the back of her shoulder and had the wind knocked out of her when she hit the ground.

"Erik, help me... Er..ik." She reached out and he took her close, setting her in the front of the horse and then mounting behind her. He scooped her up and grabbed the reins of the other horse, tying them together he set them off, going into a gallop knowing she needed to be attended to.

* * *

  


Christine awoke and everything was bright, or so it seemed. She tried to sit up but a fierce pain in her shoulder told her it was not wise. She groaned and laid back, staring at the ceiling. The room had darkened a bit since her eyes got used to the light. She tried to remember what had happened. She remembered leaving the opera with Erik, then going to a house, yes in the country. But someone, an American man, claimed to own it, and they ran from him because he had a gun and then pain and blackness... Yes, she must have been shot.

"I see you are awake," Erik's voice calmly said. "How do you feel?"

He sat down near her and took her hand. "My shoulder hurts but other than that I'm fine, mon Cherie. What happened?"

Erik sighed. "The man occupying my house shot you while you were riding the horse. I got you here as quickly as possible and have been treating you for several days now. I was afraid I'd lose you." He kissed her hand.

She shifted and he helped her sit up. "Where are we?"

He smiled. "I discovered this place several months ago. Apparently, it was a distant relative's home, a relative of yours, your father, was to receive it when this person died, but he died before they did, and so it was left. I've spoken with someone and since you are Charles daughter, you are permitted to occupy the residence."

She looked around. The room they were in alone was huge. "Master bedroom?" She asked.

He laughed. "Goodness no! This is the smallest one!"

Her eyes widened. "S-smallest? Were these relatives rich?"

He smiled. "Quite, politicians, I daresay." 

She thought for a moment. "Who was that man?"

"In the cottage?"

"Yes," She said more softly.

"An American laze. He didn't buy that property, he's bumming it. But since he is paying all of the bills, I cannot take it from him, but he must pay me rent since I own the property. I spoke to the authorities about the shooting and he will have to pay a fine as well as your medical expenses." He looked thoughtfully at her.

She sighed. "I'll be alright?"

He nodded. "Fine, we just need to let the wound heal."

She smiled and leaned back closing her eyes. "Erik?"

"Yes my pet?"

"When are we going to get married?"

He laughed. "Married?"

"Well, yes. I thought you wanted to marry me after all that fuss that night!"

"Oh then I did to keep you from Raoul but..."

"Good monsieur you are not toying with my affections, are you?"

He chuckled. "Non, but I'd like to let you heal and get us settled before we spend the money we have on that. I need to find a position, you must return to the Opera."

She sighed, she did miss singing. "You will still help me?" she asked.

"Of course, love. Why would I stop? I will help you to my dying moment." He touched her cheek and she turned her head to receive the caress. 

She smiled. "Thank you, my Angel."

"You're welcome, Christine."

* * *

  


Christine's shoulder slowly healed and Erik found a job working as a music teacher in a nearby school. Christine soon returned to the Opera to be warmly greeted by a desperate Andre` and Firmin. Meg also showed her a strange respect once she heard of her shoulder and how Erik had sat at her bedside day and night until she awoke except for confrontations about the house they now occupied and the house that was his. She constantly reminded Christine of how lucky she was.

But she knew that. Madame Giry often stopped to talk with her, she also knew of Erik and Christine's developing relationship, and like her daughter was extremely supportive of them.

Christine flourished her shoulder now fully healed and her career back on track. Erik also had fun with his work, his elementary school students very understanding of the predicament of his face and often bringing him masks for special occasions, ones of different shape and sometimes different color( not too bright though). He often spoke of how talented they all were and that their perception was amazing for their likes.

The topic of marriage was not brought up until six months after the first time, this time by Erik, suggesting several different places and themes. To Christine's surprise he came home late but with a small yet lovely engagement ring. 

The next spring they were wed in a small church near the Seine. His class of course attended along with Madame and Meg Giry. The couple went to Marseilles for the honeymoon, often spending most of the peaceful week by the Côte d'Azur. Christine found that the more time she spent near the water with him the more inspired to write a song she was. Although she had thought of lyrics in her head she had never really written anything.

The result of her study of her husbands work when they returned was simple, but enchanting. She called it Ange`, thinking it only appropriate that her first song to be about an angel when her whole life she had been expecting one.

Soon after their return, however, Erik was coming home in fouler moods. He told her that there was a new student, who constantly criticized his writing and teaching methods and told him he was foolish to wear a mask. Erik tried to explain about his face, but the boy refused to believe him.

One evening he returned home silent, not even looking at her. His face was red and when he removed the mask the look of frustration nearly frightened her.

"Erik, love... Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He bitterly snapped. She uneasily left him in the living room, going to check on dinner.

They ate in silence tonight, and his usual kiss and compliment on the food never came. Hurt she went upstairs to read for a bit and she didn't bother to look up when he came upstairs in a storm.

"Christine have you seen my notations?" He asked harshly.

"No, Erik I have not." She said, continuing to read as he stood in silence. She finally looked up in nervousness, realizing he was staring at her.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, darling why would I have?"

"Well you may have set them down somewhere when you wrote your stupid song."

She stared at him in disbelief. She had not once criticized his writing, or called it something bad. She had never once took anger out on him and she realized that was what he was doing. "Perhaps you left it in some book in your stupid study." She growled, returning her attention to the book as calmly as possible.

"Perhaps if you weren't so lazy you would know where it is."

She threw down the book as she stood. "You know Erik, I've had about enough of you tonight! I'm sorry if your day was bad, but that is no reason to insult me and take it all out on me. They are your notations and I should not have to keep track of them for you, I am your wife not your slave." He looked at her, unmoved. "I will gladly help you find them, since it has to be either one or the other of us, but I won't have you treating me this way!"

His eyes softened a bit. He then turned and left the room. She followed him into the study and began looking through several books and she finally found them under one.

He quietly thanked her and kissed her cheek apologetically.

"Darling, please tell me what is wrong..." She took him into the bedroom, sitting him down and taking his hand.

He closed his eyes. "Oh, Christine..."

* * *

  


Oooo, cliffie! R and r and see what happens!!!!!

Forgive any OOCness, I'm out of character myself today!


	3. Healing

_Ange's Chapter Three_

_Healing_

* * *

  


Christine took her husbands hand, kissing it. "What is it, Erik?"

He sobbed. "That damn stubborn mule, he took off my mask!" Erik cried. "The whole class was terrified, they hate me now, Christine."

A great pain hit her as if it had happened to her. "Oh my Erik." She whispered, pulling his weeping form to her breast. "Oh, darling. I'm sorry I was cross with you, no wonder you aren't in a good humor! Did you talk to his mother or father or whomever?"

He shook his head. "By now he'll have told them something dreadful!"

She stiffened knowing he was right. "Then I think, I shall have a little word with our dear boys parents." She said softly. He froze.

"Darling you don't have to do..."

"Nonsense Erik, I will do anything for you, but this cannot go on. The others may recover since they knew of your face but he certainly will not want to understand or come back."

He sighed and nodded weakly against her. He said nothing, just lay in her arms, weak with pain.

She felt her heart give a horrible wrench. "Is there anything I can do make you feel better?"

He sighed a long shuddery sigh. "Just hold me, please, just hold me."

She nodded, kissing his hand and laying there with him on the bed, softly humming.

He began to hum along and she smiled, vocalizing softly. He turned so he could look at her, his eyes red from crying but filled with his love for her. 

She stopped and bent down, kissing him slightly. He returned the kiss with an almost bruising force and moved closer to her, beginning to get up when the bell noisily rang downstairs.

"I'll get it, you just stay here and clean yourself up a bit." She kissed him quickly and ran down the stairs, calling for the visitor to wait a moment and finally opening it.

"Hello, Madame, is Monsieur Flancois here?"

She curiously looked at the boy. "Oui young monsieur, but I am afraid he is not in the mood for visitors. Who are you?"

"My name is Dominique Madame, I am one of his students, I came to see how he was for I am worried that he has been hurt."

She smiled at him. "You are very a kind, thoughtful boy, Dominique, would you care to come in? I can see if my husband is feeling better?"

He nodded politely. "Oui, madame. Merci."

She smiled and allowed him in, showing him to the living area. "Wait right here, I will be back soon."

"Oui, Madame." 

Christine made her way back up the stairs. "Erik! Erik?"

He came from the study. "Yes, Christine who is it?"

"Dominique from your class, he seems worried for you."

Erik smiled. "Yes, Dominique is the most kind of my class, I shall be down to see him in a moment."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I shall tell him."

He grinned wickedly. "Though, I don't know if I can forgive him for interrupting us."

She laughed. "Of course you can! There is time for _that_ later."

She made her way down. "I am glad to say, hearing your name he instantly brightened, Dominique."

Dominique smiled at her, most of his teeth missing. "So he will see me?"

She nodded. "Of course."

He seemed quite happy and so she sat down near him. "You like music, Dominique?"

"Oh yes, my mother used to sing to me before she died, you remind me of her, she had long dark curly hair and green eyes."

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"She wrote music too. That is also why I am here, I cannot yet play this on my piano, and was wondering if Monsieur Flancois would."

"Why Dominique I would be delighted!" Came Erik's cheery voice from the door.

"Monsieur, you are well?" Dominique asked with genuine interest.

"I am better." he said softly.

"I am truly sorry Peter did that, Monsieur. He had no right."

Erik nervously flexed the fingers of his hand. 

"I want you to know, Monsieur, that your face does not frighten me. Mother always told me looks were not important and she was right! You are very kind and very talented."

"Thank you, Dominique." Erik motioned for him to follow him to the piano and he held out his hand for the music by the boys mother. Christine stood near them reading the music. As Erik began to play she sang the words written in an elegant scrawl.

Dominique looked curiously up at her and smiled. He tilted his head, listening to the song and when it finished began to clap. "Madame, I had no idea you had such talent!"

She smiled. "Without Erik it would not be so, he deserves most of the credit."

Erik smiled. "Dominique this is a very lovely song. Would you mind if I made a copy of it?"

"No Monsieur, you may of course how long would it take?"

Christine grinned. "Without staying up to work on it."

Erik chuckled. "I'd say three days, this is not so long."

Dominique nodded and looked at the clock. "I'd better get home, father said to be home at six, and I have quite a walk."

Christine looked at Erik questioningly and he nodded in understanding. "Dominique, would you like a ride home?"

Dominique thought for a moment. "I wouldn't like to trouble you."

Erik shook his head. "It is no trouble at all. Where do you live?"

* * *

  


"Thank you Madame, Monsieur! I shall see you at class!" Dominique called as he ran into his home. His father soon walked out toward the carriage. 

"Good evening Monsieur, Madame." He nodded at Christine. "My son has told me about what happened and I am deeply sorry, is there any way I can assist you in working with your class? I specialize in helping people understand differences in others."

Erik smiled. "I would love your help, Monsieur. For I believe my class will be hard to retrieve."

The man smiled. "Worry not, Monsieur, I can help." 

Erik smiled and shook the mans hand, they exchanged words and Erik bid him good night.

They returned home and Christine went straight upstairs to change for bed, and was surprised to feel Erik's arms come around her waist.

"Now... Where were we?"

* * *

  


I know, it's shorter but randr anyhow.In the Light of the Moon Chapter three is almost finished.


	4. Expecting the Unexpected

_Chapter 4_

_Expecting the Unexpected_

* * *

  


Christine cursed softly as she ran into the other room and prepared to be sick. She had arrived at the Opera on time and was in the middle of her practice when she had to run to be sick. Now it was the fourth time that morning, and Andre` had just told her to go home and get better, that it was all right.

She opened the front door and sighed, stepping into the foyer, removing her cloak, and then going to the bedroom upstairs, lying down. A few hours later she heard the door downstairs open again and slam, Erik's footsteps were on the stairs, e was obviously running.

"Christine, Madame Giry told me are you all right?"

She nodded quickly. "I am fine, Erik. I'm just very tired."

He looked unbelieving. "She said you were violently ill, Christine."

Christine bit her lip. "I just threw up..." He sat next to her and she nervously added. "Four times."

He sighed and took her into his arms, feeling her forehead. "You don't have a fever."

She shook her head. "You didn't have to come home early."

"Yes I did." He told her sternly. "My wife is ill, so must take care of her as she takes care fo me."

Christine smiled. Three weeks ago she had talked to the boy, Peter's parents, and they had been moved with pity, and had scolded their son. Peter had apologized to Erik, and was now an active participant in his class.

She began to think... she had been somewhat ill the morning before, but she had not had to go in. It only happened in the morning, she had no fever...

"Mon dieu," She looked at him, blushing. "Erik, je enceinte!" 

He stared at her in disbelief, then he was crying, huge gasping sobs into her hair, and she held him. Pregnant, she would have a baby, their baby, his baby.

"Oh my Christine," He whispered. "I'm so happy!"

She wiped her face with her sleeve and leaned up to kiss him gently. He replied just as gently, his hand coming up to lay upon her abdomen. She smiled into the kiss and he broke it looking at her.

"I love you Erik." She whispered softly.

He smiled. "I love you, Christine."

* * *

  


The news didn't take so well with the managers, but she promised them she'd perform until she absolutely could not and she would come back as soon as possible. Meg and Madame Giry, however, were delighted by the news. They even planned a small little party for her and her husbands soon to come arrival, where they provided her with several necessities. Erik began to make several pieces of furniture, a crib, a dresser, a night stand, a rocking chair and a toy chest, all to have angels carved into them.

Christine had beseeched him not to overwork, but he insisted there was no such thing as overworking for their child. She had gone about making clothing and blankets for the baby, something she had Madame Giry help her with since she was not so experienced with it.

Christine was only three months along, and the way people were working made he feel like the baby would come any day now. She would sometime's catch herself laughing about it, then meeting her husbands inquiring gaze and one night she explained it to him.

Lovemaking had been restrained since the night she figured out she was pregnant, Erik vowed it to be the last time out of concern for the child. He had made love to her with a new gentleness, searching her small body for some outward indication of the new life she carried.

Though it didn't bother her his restraint surprised her. She pushed the thought away, that was something a trollop would think if someone didn't want them. She was no trollop.

* * *

  


It was her sixth month now, she had gained a reasonable amount of weight and could no longer perform. She did usually go watch the ballet practices, as she didn't want to be at home alone.

On one particular afternoon that she went in Carlotta had returned to see how things had changed. Christine was speaking with Madame Giry, when Carlotta noticed her understudy was practicing she sniggered.

"What's de matter? Can't sing now?"

Christine, who's back had been to her turned around and grinned at Carlotta's shocked expression. "No, I can't."

Carlotta recovered and laughed. "The Vicomte and yourself _have_ been_ very_ busy, eh?"

Christine scowled at this. "What business of yours is that?"

"Or," Carlotta sneered. "Is it the monsters child from those long nights of not leaving the cellars?"

Christine quickly covered. "Don't be ridiculous! That was far more than six months ago."

Carlotta smiled icily. "I know."

Christine chuckled coldly. "Perhaps it was _you_ who spent several nights with him, hmm? While Ubaldo wasn't around and of course..." She smiled evilly for effect. "Before the monster killed him out of jealousy!"

Carlotta unexpectedly lunged for her, they struggled for some time but Carlotta won, throwing Christine to the hard floor. The rest was a blur, Christine's cry of agony, Carlotta being escorted out, Madame Giry sending Meg to the school Erik taught at, and then she was unconscious. 

* * *

  


Erik rushed into the room, his eyes wide with fear. Christine lay on the bed, seemingly unconscious. Madame Giry was in a chair at her side, her back to him, and her head bowed.

"Madame?" He asked, afraid of her answer.

She sighed deeply and turned to him, a small bundle in her arms. " I am sorry, Erik."

He whimpered as she set the stillborn child in his arms. The baby was white, the eyes still shut, developing. Or were going to develop. The head was bald and the ears very small compared to the head, more than likely also unfinished.

Madame spoke up before he tried to look under the blanket. "A girl."

He realized that there may be more then what he wanted to see. Tears streamed down his face onto his dead daughter. He brought her up, kissing her forehead and in a choked voice said, "Rest in peace, Cherie."

He handed her to the man come to take her but then instructed. "Wait until her mother wakes up and sees her before you take her."

"Erik, this is going to be hard enough for Christine as it is..." Madame interjected.

"I know her, she will want to see her." He wiped away his tears and took his wife's hand. To his surprise she stirred and her eyes flew open. She bolted upright and immediately groped at her stomach.

"Erik, where is..." She paused, seeing the man in the doorway. She gasped.

Erik took her chin, and forced her to look at him. "Christine, I beg you not to get excited."

Christine whimpered in protest and extended her arms, her eyes full of tears as she heard his grim tone. Erik nodded for the man to come forward with the child. He gave her to her mother and Christine began to weep uncontrollably. She clutched the baby to her chest, her tears falling freely and her sobs loud. She gasped for breath, trying to calm she mumbled. "What is it?"

Erik struggled not to choke as he spoke. "A... Girl."

Christine clutched her once again, her eyes closed, tears slipping out. She tried to restrain her sobs by pinching her lips shut but her body rocked with the force of her crying. She still clutched her, weeping for her loss, and stupidity. If she had not angered Carlotta this would not have happened. Her baby would be alive, growing inside of her, and three months from now she would be born, happy and healthy, and alive.

Madame Giry gently spoke. "Christine, the poor man has to take her to be prepared for burial, please let her go."

"No!" She protested. "Not yet, only a few more moments with the child I have killed."

Erik sternly looked at her. "This is not your fault, Christine. It is Carlotta's..."

"No, dammit! I antagonized her! I practically begged her!"

He gently sighed and touch her arm. "But you did not throw yourself down, then it would be your fault. She should have ignored you like any mature adult, this is her fault, Christine, always remember, she killed our baby."

Christine's blood grew hot. He was right. She had done it, she had killed their baby. It was not Christine's fault after all, it was Carlotta's.

Her grip loosened and she looked away from the corpse. "Please, take her I... I want to be alone."

Erik did so, handing her to the man once again with a quick kiss. The man eyed all of them, then sighed going down to his carriage. Madame left the room to make arrangements with the managers, for a leave of absence for Christine, since they had come to see her ok.

Erik sat next to her, she had huddled up, and was weeping into the pillow. She turned to him. "Erik, I'm sorry....."

He shook his head. "I already told you..."

"I know but I should have stopped her, I have failed you..." She shamefully looked away.

"No, you fought hard these past few hours to save that baby, even though you don't know it. You have not failed me. I am proud you tried." She looked at him again and he gently pushed her a bit, making room for himself. He then got up and snuggled close to her, holding her in his arms until she fell asleep.

* * *

  


I know, I'm evil. Poor little baby. Just so you know, this was NOT my idea. Please, no flames.


	5. Getting Better and Loving More

_Getting Better- Loving More_

* * *

  


Christine spent much of the next several weeks in bed, both her body and her spirit needed to heal. Erik took a leave from work, and as Madame had promised, hers was prolonged. Christine accepted and embraced that she had not killed the baby, whom they had named Ella. She would pray for her at least six times a day, begging God to take care of her as his own. 

Erik sang her to sleep every morning, and sang to her whenever she asked it of him. He fed her in bed, and promised her they would have another baby once the time was right. It killed him to see her this way.

Soon she was on her feet, still undeniably depressed, but healing nonetheless. She would sit at the piano, playing songs he had written and patiently taught to her. She had been working on another one of her songs since before the baby's death, and so she finally finished it, she decided to play it for him, explaining it as an occurrence from before she found out he was not her Angel.

_Just past midnight, while I sleep, _

_ A song drifts through my mind_

_ As the moonlight bathes the sea_

_ I hear a lullaby_

_ Such sweetly blending beauty_

_ hear the angels sing!_

_ And I woke_

_ pausing to hear the music of my dreams_

_ Gentle harps whistling flutes_

_ on and on in my dreams_

_ Oo, oo_

_ While the night wind cools my room_

_ I search my memory_

_ and hear a phantom serenade_

_ of haunting melody_

_ Just listen join me as we journey to the dawn_

_ And I woke_

_ Pausing to hear the music of my dreams_

_ gentle harps whistling flutes_

_ On and on in my dreams_

_ I dream of sun-bright ocean skies_

_ and I hear mighty waves whispering_

_ their evening song proud music of the storm_

_ Oo_

_ Oh, music, oo_

_ Only I can hear it_

_ Calling me_

_ Guiding me home_

_ And I will hear the song_

_ On and on in my dreams_

_ Play on and on in my dreams._

  


Christine sighed and finished playing the ending. She looked to Erik, his eyes moist with pride, he kissed his wife gently.

"That is beautiful darling." He whispered, holding her to him.

"Do you really think so?" She asked, her voice filled with hope.

"No," he felt her try to rip away from him but he made her look into his eyes. "I know so."

She collapsed to him once more, her sobs causing her to shake, he held her, whispering reassurances until she calmed and looked at him intently.

"Erik when can we try again?"

He sighed calmly. "Not yet, you aren't ready."

"Yes I am!" she cried. "I've been ready but you've been sleeping downstairs!"

He shook his head. "No, you aren't. If you were ready you wouldn't be thinking of it. You always do though, when you let go, I'll know you're ready."

"Let go? Let go? _How can I let go of my CHILD?"_ She cried, standing in her fury. "You have _no_ idea what it is like to carry something so precious in your body and then have it_ ripped_ from you!" She collapsed in a heap on the floor. "I need to feel her inside of me, again."

He felt moved by her words, and he sat down on the floor next to her. "You're right, I'll never know that feeling, Christine. But I know you need to let go, not completely, I would never ask that of you, you just need to accept that she's gone and need to lead a life as normally as possible."

She sighed, whimpering and falling into his embrace. He held her close and kissed her neck. "I love you so goddamn much. I am not doing this to hurt you, I'm doing this because I love you."

She nuzzled into his chest and whispered. "I love you too, Erik."

"I know, cherie. I know."

* * *

  


He had held her most of the night that way until she shifted in soreness. He then took her up to bed. Unable to sleep, he went downstairs to the piano, playing her song with little difficulty. He smiled, knowing it was about a time he had sung to her outside her window, unseen by her searching eyes.

Christine awoke and lay there, finally turning to look at her husband and becoming both startled and confused when he was not there. She fled down the stairs, now able to hear her song being played. She ran into the lounge, nearly fainting with relief as she saw him, playing.

He looked up at her, his eyes concerned. "Christine, you should be resting!"

She sighed, running to be held in his arms. "I woke up and you were gone, I thought I'd lost you! Just like Ella."

He shook his head. "No matter what happens, you will never EVER lose me, never." He kissed her forehead.

She grasped him as if afraid to let go and he made up his mind. He kissed her, feeling that she was ready enough, he would end her misery.

He carried her up the stairs and laid her down, following her soon.

* * *

  


Tis a bit short, but sad. Hope you like, gimme some ideas.

__

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	6. Track Down this Murderer

_Ange's Chapter 6_

_Track Down This Murderer!_

By the way,_ 'Music of My Dreams' _is by Jeff Funk, taken from the poem _'Music of the Storm' _by some other guy, don't remember his name. Thanks to Mr. Janson for teaching it to me! ^^ I didn't get into the musical BTW. Mr. Janson said to give it a year. My Mommy gave me this huge Phantom towel with a mask on it and I was like, 'Almost as good as wrapping Erik around you!'

* * *

  


Christine forced herself into the Opera house, her eyes red and she had lost more weight than she had gained in her pregnancy. Erik had tried his damnedest to keep her eating, but she often refused. She made her way to her dressing room, where Firmin and Andre` awaited her, along with thousands of bouquets and letters of condolences.

Christine felt her eyes flood but fought the urge to cry, she smiled weakly at the managers. "Bon jour, gentlemen."

They smiled also, taking her hand. "Madame, may we offer our own condolences?" Andre asked.

She sighed. "Thank you both, you've been more than kind letting me have time off."

Firmin waved it off. "Anything for our star, Madame!"

An idea sparked in her mind. "Anything?"

Both looked grim. Neither answered the question, both gulped and nodded.

Christine smiled softly. "Messieurs, can you recall all the times you lost money on Carlotta's account? Simply because she refused to sing."

"Of course." Andre said slowly.

"And how many times have you lost money on my account?"

Firmin chuckled. "Once, perhaps twice."

"I see...." She said, mischief and grief flaring in her eyes.

"Madame, what are you suggesting?"

Christine looked up at them, tears had escaped her eyes, and her voice choked as she said. "Payback."

* * *

  


Erik and Christine's tries for a second child had somehow come to no prevail. It had been two months since the night he had decided to end her misery, and give her what she wanted, rather than more heartbreak. 

But Christine wasn't pregnant, and it was a great distress to her. Erik, heartbroken by his wife's depression went to Mme and Meg Giry for help.

"She's made plans for something with the managers, she asked me to get your help while they discuss it."

Mme raised a neatly done eyebrow. "Oh, what sort of plans?"

Erik grinned an evil, phantomish grin. "A fright, we haven't discussed details, but we want to frighten her to the point where death is possible."

Meg stood, smiling. "I will help."

Mme Giry looked uneasily, then stood and shook Erik's hand as Meg had. "All right Erik, I will also help."

Erik hugged both. "Now," he sat down crossing his hands and watched as the other two sat and looked at him. "Have you any ideas?"

Meg's grin was widespread. "Actually..." She scratched at something on her arm. "Christine and I made it a point to terrorizing Carlotta, I'm sure we can come up with something."

* * *

  


Things would seem easy, except that no one had seen Carlotta in some time. Not since she was escorted from the building after throwing Christine to the floor. This, of course created a problem, because they obviously needed her there to pursue the revenge.

Firmin and Andre soon contacted her and persuaded her to come to Paris. All was set now, and they just had to wait.

Christine calmly sat in her dressing room, brushing her hair, staring into the small mirror on the dressing table she smiled at her reflection, pulled on her cloak, concealed her face with her hood, making sure no hair or clothes stood out. Then she stood, waiting for her 'cue'.

Firmin and Andre led Carlotta into her old dressing room, allowing her to look around, her things as they had ever been. She did not know Christine was outside her door, waiting to do her part, but the flicker of the candle told the managers as a signal, that it was time.

"Signora, look at yourself! Have you lost weight?" Andre asked, gesturing to the mirror.

Carlotta grinned, strutting over to it and admiring herself. "Perhaps I have!"

"_Oh, I think so, Signora,"_

Carlotta froze, looking about. "Who was that?"

"_I am your guardian Angel, Cara."_

Firmin nodded. "Listen to him."

Carlotta looked nervously around again, visibly quivering in her fear. "Why have you come to me?"

Erik's voice was soothing and believable. _"I worry for you, Cara. You miss him, don't you?"_

Carlotta released several tears. "Yes!"

"_Ubaldo misses you, Cara, would you like to see him for a moment?"_

"Yes!" She cried again.

_"Come, Ubaldo."_ Erik said almost in a whisper, to her a chant.

Two cloaked figures entered, their faces hidden. They stood on each side os the door, and then a third, plump one entered, the face also hidden in shadow.

Carlotta whimpered and prepared to run to it but Erik's voice warned otherwise. "_Do not touch him! He is a weak spirit in the clothing of a man, he is not really there physically."_

Carlotta regained her composure momentarily. "Who are the other two?"

Erik grinned behind the mirror. _"One stands for Christine Daae`, the other for her child."_

"C-christine Daae`?"

"_Yes my child, she died giving birth to her stillborn child. She is with ubaldo and her baby, in Heaven."_

Carlotta stared in horror. "I.....I....."

_"Do you feel remorse?"_

She sneered at the two. "No!"

Erik silently stepped through the mirror while Carlotta looked at the shadowy figures. "_Look at me, Cara..."_

She turned and gasped, he had adorned a white robe, the hood hiding his masked face. "_Your treatment of Christine, her unborn child, and of the man known as the Opera Ghost have condemned you to many a century in Purgatory, repent, and you will never face Hell."_

She shook her head. "No."

He sighed stepping to 'Ubaldo', reaching for the hood. She shivered behind him and the hood was gone, revealing a feminine face of Christine. He went to another now, Meg Giry, another Madame Giry, Carlotta stared in horror as he turned to face her.

"Repent."

She wanted to slap him. "NO!"

He shrugged, reaching up, removing his hood, she went into hysterics at what she saw, truly ugly and un angel like.

He smiled at her screams, she looked at the mangers, their cold smirks sending her even further into hysteria.__

Clutching at her heart she fell to the floor, convulsing once, and then remaining still.

Christine ripped the pillow from her robe, lifting her rivals head and placing it beneath, she checked her pulse.

"Dead," she said, looking at them. "Died in her sleep," She smiled at the managers. "And in her will everything goes to the two of you, since she has no family?"

They nodded, for once uncaring of the dead sole on the floor. Christine smiled brighter leading Erik from the room to her dressing room down the hall. Meg and Mme quickly followedsmiling at what they heard.

"We're what?" Erik didn't wait for her to answer, obviously sweeping her up before she could.

* * *

  


__Mwa ha ha ha. Wanna see what happens next? Gimme some ideas, gimme about a week and you'll find out!__

  



	7. Daddy's Little Girl

_Chapter 7_

_Daddy's Little Girl_

* * *

  


Note- Oh c'mon, Erik would make the best father, 'specially to a little girl!

* * *

  


Erik impatiently paced the hallway, listening to the sounds coming from behind the bedroom door, curiously awaiting just one.

He could hear Christine, his beloved wife, and he could hear her pain. He flinched slightly as she let out a long, echoing wail. Pausing outside the door he felt tears flow from his eyes as a more shrill cry came shortly afterward. His joy was uncomprehensible. He leaned against the wall, saying a silent prayer of praise, weeping into his hand.

Madame Giry came out, her face numb, her eyes dark and without emotion. He understood.

"May I?"

She nodded, moving aside to allow him entrance. He walked in, slowly moving to his exhausted wife. "Oh, Christine."

"Erik," she murmured and shifted. The infant was tucked in her arms, one of Christine's fingers inside her tiny fist. "I'd like you to meet your daughter." Her eyes glowed with happiness and tiredness.

"Felicity." He whispered, leaning in, kissing the newborn's head, then moving up, kissing his wife gently. "Thank you." He whispered.

"Thank _you_." She murmured, nestling the infant closer to her. After nine long months of turmoil for not knowing if she'd make it through the pregnancy this time, her baby was here. _Their_ baby was here. 

Erik pulled a chair closer to the bed, sitting and watching as she gazed down lovingly at the tiny new person. She sighed, looking at him. "It worked, it all worked fine."

Smiling he nodded. "I told you it would."

* * *

  


"She's so beautiful!" Erik's joyful exclamation caused Christine to laugh out as they carefully bathed her for the first time after the quick clean up she had at birth. She carefully sponged water over the infant, who seemed to be asleep as this happened.

"At least she isn't one of the ones who scream when they get wet." She remarked gratefully.

He laughed wholeheartedly. "I suppose, but who cares! Look at her, Christine! I could never _dream_ of such beauty!"

Christine smiled motioning to the side. "Can you grab the towel? Drape it over your arms like that, yes. I'm going to set her in." Quickly she transferred her from the basin to his arms and she wrapped the limp towel around her. "There now. Dry her off, I'll be right back." She lifted the basin carefully and went to dispose of it.

Erik sat and smiled down at his sleeping beauty. Christine had been bedridden for the past week, and was grateful to move around. The baby's birth had been a great deal to handle, but she had done it with pride and often fought the urge to sit down, but he scolded her when he could see she was uncomfortable.

He shifted his grasp on Felicity, rubbing her skin with the towel. It was pale and flawless like her mother, but she had her fathers cheekbones, there was no mistaking that light chubbiness. When open her eyes were a vibrant blue, much like his, but he felt they would subside to the more dull blue of her mother's.

Christine soon returned, helping him dress her and then going to lay her down. She began to set about chores and gasped, struggling in protest as he lifted her and began to carry her to bed. "Erik! I..."

"Hush! You need rest!" He tried to sound harsh and demanding but his humor was obvious.

She groaned. "I have been _resting_ for well over a week! I am perfectly happy on my feet!"

He shook his head, laying her down with the tenderness he had always shown. "My love, I understand, but you are weak no matter what you say. I wouldn't be able to bear..." His voice broke off and he looked away, fighting back tears. She reached up and took his hand. 

"Only if you rest with me fr a bit." He sighed, coming down beside her and cradling her form in his arms, still quite small for someone who had just given birth and who had lost a baby a year earlier. He pillowed her head on his shoulder and held her, feeling her breathing slow and eventually fall, now shallow.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, saying a silent prayer of thanks to God, for only such a high thing as God could be responsible for this, a wonderful young wife who had given him two beautiful daughters, even though one had perished.

He smiled bitter sweetly. They had endured their short ends of the stick, but all together they had done well with their lives, and he was proud of the transition. "Sleep well, cherie." He whispered and closed his eyes. Drifting off.

* * *

  


Parenthood can sometimes be a bother, but it's even worse when your wife is so tired, she can't be roused by the baby crying. Stirring he forced himself to hop out of bed and run into the nursery, he lifted the crying child from her crib and patted her back, soothing her.

He began to sing absentmindedly. A lullaby he had long known, and she whimpered with her tiredness. He kissed her forehead gently, continuing to sing. She was soon limp in his arms, but not before she sighed and rested her tiny head against his shoulder.

A sense of overwhelming pride filled him and he beamed setting her down to sleep. He had sung his child to sleep, for the first time. He had a family that loved him, he had a wife, Christine, and now a daughter, felicity.


	8. A long Lost Friend

_Ange`'s Chapter Eight_

_A Long Lost Friend_

* * *

  


It truly is amazing how quickly baby's grow! Felicity was six months old now and much more responsive. Christine often took her for rides in her buggy, just walking about Paris and enjoying the mild summer. Christine had non idea that on one such ride she would run into someone she had not seen in nearly four years.

It was May, and the sun was shining despite the breezy chill in the air. Christine had the cover of the buddy down for the clouds kept the sun from shining in her daughter's eyes. She smiled as the infant kicked about and gurgled as she pushed her, she looked up briefly to make sure she would not bump into someone and froze.

"Christine?" The person asked, shocked.

"R-raoul." She mumbled. Flinching slightly at the surprised look he was giving her.

"My God! Look at you! You're more beautiful than you were when I last saw you!"

She blushed. "Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself."

He came nearer and hugged her, then he turned to the buggy. "Yours?"

She smiled. "Yes, Felicity."

He chuckled and reached in, placing a finger into her fist. "How old is she?"

"Six months."

"You have been busy! I heard about your first miscarriage, I'm sorry."

She smiled and shrugged. "The past is the past. But thank you."

"I'd hate to be obtrusive, but I imagine you've married Erik?" He eyed her curiously.

She looked at him in surprise. "I... How would you...?"

He laughed. "Think Christine. Three years ago you left my carriage yelling about getting to Erik. You said you loved him. Now you're married, you have a baby, I can only put one and one to two."

She smiled weakly. "I'm sorry things ended that way."

He shook his head and forced her to look at him. "I needed a reality check. I'll always love you, Christine. But you were right, not how I should love a wife."

A tear fell onto her cheek and she nodded, he brought her to him again and they both looked down at the sleeping baby. To anyone else, they looked like a young couple, admiring their newest addition but in reality they were two long lost friends, looking forward to a happy future.

* * *

  


Erik sighed as he set down his lesson plans for the day on his desk. He began to flip through when someone cleared their throat from the doorway. 

"Half a moment." He mumbled, scribbling some things down and then looking up with a gasp.

"Erik, that certainly is not your best expression!"

"Daroga! What are you doing in these parts!" He ran to greet his old friend. Nadir embraced him and grinned.

"Wandering about, thought I'd say hello. How is Christine?"

Erik smiled. "Well, we have a baby in December!"

"Really!" Nadir chuckled. "I haven't spoken to you since your wedding! Things have changed."

Erik sadly smiled. "Indeed. She lost one before that. But we have managed."

Nadir nodded. "Yes, and then you killed La Carlotta."

"No," Erik growled. "We put her out of her misery."

Nadir sighed and waved it off. "No more, we shall talk about happy things. The baby, what was it?"

"A girl, Felicity. 8 lbs straight." He laughed. "She has Christine's spitting image and my cheeks! Oh she is the most beautiful human being, no, most beautiful_ living thing _in the world!"

Nadir laughed. " I am sure!"

"Oh Nadir you must come over for dinner tonight! Christine wouldn't mind! You can see the baby and we can catch up!"

Nadir nodded. "I will. I must go run some errands, I will see you at what time?"

"Around seven. You remember where?"

"Yes of course, yes of course. Goodbye Erik."

"Goodbye Daroga."

* * *

  


Erik went home that afternoon in the cheeriest of moods. He kissed Felicity as she played in her chair, then Christine, who was busy setting about dinner.

"Darling," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her. "I invited Nadir for dinner tonight, he's in town for a short while, I hope it isn't of any inconvenience."

She smiled. "No, it's fine. I saw Raoul today on our walk and he's coming too."

He froze. "Raoul?"

"We're friends again Erik, it's all right. He very much wanted to see you and the baby. You don't mind do you?"

"Of course not, it's just a bit of a surprise. He wants to see me?"

"Yes, I don't know why. He never said."

Erik sighed and kissed her gently again. "Thank you darling. I'll leave you to yourself."

She laughed. "Oh yes thank you, monsieur! I must have complete privacy when I cook!"

* * *

Erik showed Raoul into the study, closing the door he offered him a seat and brandy.

"Now then," Erik said, sitting down and smiling. "Why did you want to speak?"

"Well," Raoul began. "I was speaking to a friend, who is working on an opera. He's having some trouble on a few bars, and wants to write the rest with help. I thought, after hearing your work, you would be perfect."

Erik laughed. "Don Juan Triumphant? That enormous sob is nothing! But thank you."

"Oh no!" Raoul shot up. "I am no connosieur of the opera, but that was by far the most beautiful music I have ever heard!"

Erik cleared his throat. "Tell your friend," he paused, thinking. "Tell him I can meet him Monday morning, 8 o'clock, preferably here to discuss the details."

Raoul smiled. "Thank you Erik, you have no idea what this means to me!"

Erik smiled. "Or you, me."

* * *

  


Mwa ha ha! Next chappie is the last. Then an epilogue. Maybe a sequel if you all wish...


	9. Encore

_Nine_

_Encore! _

* * *

  


Christine smiled as she made her way off the stage and into the wings, she greeted several patrons there, and also the managers, and then after receiving their flowers she headed to her dressing room.

She changed quickly, and turned to grab a brush. Her eyes caught and held her mirror. She took up the brush and moved to it, placing her cheek against the cool glass. She had never really noticed it in the past three years since she had last vanished through it. And it felt like she had ignored a dear friend.

Reaching up she found and flipped the switch, pressing the glass and then waiting as the counterweights worked. She then stepped through, and closed it behind her.

She found her way to the lake, poling herself across absentmindedly. She docked it and then made her way to his old home, where she admitted herself.

Everything was covered with dust, and there were several rats nests all throughout. It caused her slight pain to see his once grand furnishings in such a state. She ran her fingers of the key-cover of the piano as she moved through the house. She found the panel that led to her room, and she pressed it open, a gasp of surprise ensued.

Her things were as she had left them, not a speck of dust, not a trace of vermin. Her bed linens were clean, and smelled as if they had just been washed. He had taken such care to preserve her room and had basically let the rest of his home rot away! 

An idea came to mind, and she made her way back out, sure to close any doors she had opened. She rowed herself back across the lake, docking the boat once again and navigating the passage to her mirror. She made her way back in, and just as she closed the mirror there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" She asked, loving every moment of authority she could have.

"It's your loving husband, Madame."

She laughed like a girl and ran to the door, flinging it open and pulling him inside, barely allowing him to close the door before she wrapped her arms around him and gave him her kiss. He laughed.

"To what do I owe this honor?"

"Erik, we should bring them to the new house. Your old furnishings. We should take them, clean them up and bring them home."

"This is all very good and well, darling, but what of your old things?"

She smiled all the more brightly. "We can save them for Felicity. The bed and all."

He was expressionless for some time, then slowly, he smiled at her. "I married a genius."

She laughed and kissed him delicately. "I know."

"We have but one problem, Mme."

"Hmmmm?"

"What if the other children grow jealous?"

Christine, thinking it was a joke chuckled and her eyes danced at his warm expression. But she soon realized he was serious and shook her head. "Erik, you know I may not be able to..."

"Shhhh, no more of that. There is still a chance, but you mustn't jinx it, my love. Unless of course," he paused. "you don't want to have any more."

"Darling, you know I do. I'm only trying to be realistic. God, I would love to have more, Felicity is amazing! I mean to think something so magnificent and wonderful could be created so simply."

He grinned. "And what, my dear, is so simple about the process?"

She laughed. "This is hardly something adults would talk about."

"Oh, but mon ange must I remind you that we are no normal adults. And besides," he nibbled her earlobe playfully. "You know I love it when you talk naughty."

She laughed loudly at this, gently shoving him away and getting her things together. "Come on, you bad man. You need to be punished."

* * *

  


Christine sighed as she watched her now five year old daughter rip open a package. It was a highly celebrated day every year, a day neither Christine nor Erik took for granted, for they knew they were lucky to be celebrating the birthday of their daughter. Felicity lifted a silver rattle from the cardboard box. 

Felicity looked at her mother perplexed, looking at the toy then back to her mother. "Momma, what can I do with this?"

Christine smiled radiantly. "Well dear, you have been asking for something for a few months now."

Felicity grinned from ear to ear. "A little brother or sister? Oh where are they Momma!"

Christine motioned for her to come sit on her lap and she took her hand, pressing it to her belly. "Right here, honey." She smiled to herself, letting go of Felicity's hand, which stayed in place. "Right here." 

Felicity shifted on her lap and looked up into her mother's face. "Does Daddy know?"

"Not yet punkin, I'll tell him tonight so shhhh." Christine held her finger to her lips and Felicity giggled, nodded ans kissed her cheek. She skipped away then, and Christine stood, sighing heavily she went about to continue to make things ready. The sound of the door opening greeted her senses and she ran to the foyer, as giddy as a child, her eyes bright and wide, her heart skipping a beat, her teeth showing in her radiant smile.

She leapt into his arms, spreading kisses over his face and listening to his deep laughter. She felt his lips press her cheek, forehead, and throat. She looked down into his bright face, then pressed her lips to his. He smiled against her, slowly bringing her down until her feet touched the floor, but he never allowed the contact to break.

He pictured the moment as she held him, she had run to him, looking exactly like an angel. Her hair had flown around her, her dress clung to her form and she had smiled at him with such a happiness! He had seen that happiness twice before.

"Christine," he whispered. "are you... Pregnant?"

Frozen she silently thanked God for blessing her with him. He had such an intuition, he knew everything about her, and every expression and it's meaning. She smiled, blushing softly. "You got me."

His smile brightened and he swept her up again, thanking God for blessing him with this woman who had born so much more than children. She bore his troubles, his triumphs, his let-downs, and because of it she reciprocated his great love for her. She was an Angel, sent to him to show him that life is possibly happy. 

"What shall we call our child, Erik?" She whispered, nuzzling his cheek.

"Angel." He whispered. "No other name would do."

She smiled. "All right, Angel it is."

* * *

  


Finis

* * *

  


Ok, thats all for Ange`'s. If you wanna see a sequel, lemme know, ok? Ok!


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